Captain Bren and the Royal Siren, Chapter 6

  • Posted on November 14, 2023 at 5:02 pm

For a detailed breakdown of this story’s chapters, please consult the Chapter Links.

by kinkychic and kinky’s_sis

Chapter Six: A Royal Summons

We had but one expert musketeer aboard. Muskets are notoriously inaccurate, but over time, we’d managed to acquire two of exceptionally high quality. Spencer looked after them, and woe betide any man who touched either. 

“Spencer!” I called. He knew he had a job to do.

“Cap’ain, what you ’as in mind?”

“Take your muskets aloft. Look for their captain. You might have time for three shots. It doesn’t matter whether you hit him or not. I want him ducking for his life, not giving orders. But … if you hit him, you earn an extra tot.” 

Strange how the offer of rum makes a sailor jump. I never saw Spencer climb the shrouds so fast.

Suddenly I realised I’d left our manoeuvre a bit late. “Tack now!” I called. “Fast as you like. Then tighten up.”

The Majestic had got a bit ahead. I hoped Jensen would understand the need to slow and keep in line with us. Combined fire from port and starboard has a remarkable way of slowing your opponent’s gunners. No sooner had the thought crossed my mind, than I saw him slacken sail slightly.

“Ready, guns! Twenty seconds!”

Such a brief time, yet it can seem like an age when so much depends on the outcome.

“Ready on the wheel. Now! Bring her over.”

The frigate raced towards us, and the twelve-pounder erupted. “Bring her back on course,” I yelled through the smoke. “Fire as you bear.”

There was a heartbeat between each shot of the nine-pounders, one after the other. I never heard Jensen’s guns, but I saw the smoke, in perfect time with the Siren.

The Spaniard returned fire, but it was hardly a broadside. Perhaps only three guns were touched. There was chaos on her deck, and I saw her officers running to the captain. Whether from our chain shot or one of Spencer’s muskets, I had no idea, but he was down. The Spanish officers, who are more capable than the French, should have known better than to worry over one another in the midst of battle. They should have been giving orders. But no one was.

“Prepare to board!” 

A thud shook the deck as we hit. Our hooks took hold, and our men surged over. I say ‘men’, but it came as a shock when I saw both Anne and Marianna, each armed with a sword and pistol, close to me as we charged the Spanish crew. It wasn’t until it was over that I also saw Daphne with a sword in her hand. Anne turned to her and berated her in the most animated fashion. Daphne replied calmly and tossed her head. I wished I knew what they were saying. 

The Majestic came alongside, her men ready to board, but there was no need. The fight was gone out of the Spanish by the time we had cut down a dozen or so. I sent Davy to fetch her colours down.

I told Halcombe to climb above the smoke and find the other frigate. He was back within seconds. “She’s gone, Captain,” he reported. “She’s trying to tack back towards the flota. I reckon they forgot how hard that was going to be. Maybe even impossible against that current.”

“Mister Halcombe –” He was a busy man today “– get the topmen repairing the stays. We don’t want one of these masts coming down on us.”

I went to check on their captain. He was alive but in some pain from the musket ball in his shoulder. That was the tot Spencer was due.

My question – “Tiene un medico?” – got a negative response. “Someone send for the sawbones, please.”

I called Jensen over. “I think we should get out of here as fast as we can. Someone’s bound to have heard the gunfire. Let’s get back in the current and head north, up past Grand Bahama. Then we’ll tack to the east.”

I had yet another job for Halcombe. 

“Mister Halcombe, you will take command of the Spaniard. Siren will sail ahead and the Majestic astern of you. We’re all going to be short-handed, but we’ll manage.”

We had another frigate for the King, to make amends for the one I’d sunk. My debt was paid. The question was, would he see it that way?

I decided to sail the Spanish frigate into Bermuda. She was called the Peregrina, and she actually boasted more guns than I had thought – thirty-six split between two decks. How lucky we were that she had been so poorly crewed!

We would fly a British merchant flag above the Spanish colours. This would identify the ship as a captured prize. We would also fly the signal for the admiral — four small flags: blue, yellow, red, and black.

I also appointed Anne acting mate of the Peregrina. In the past, I might not have trusted her, but now, I saw a marked improvement in her attitude, which I attributed to Daphne’s influence. “I would suggest we change your name and get Daphne to dye that red hair of yours,” I suggested. “We are hoping for a King’s pardon, but I doubt he would ever give such to Anne Bonny.”

If I had expected any argument, I would have been wrong.

“I already thought of that,” she replied. “I gave Daphne a list, and she picked Kira Delaney. In the true Irish language, it means black challenger, so it fits, I’d say – and my hair will be black.

“And before we go – I’ve not thanked you proper for my rescue,” she went on. “It was a brave thing, going into that prison. More for Jack I think, but nonetheless, here I am. More of a thank-you, though, is bringing me Daphne. Her and you, and of course, Big Davy for savin’ me.” 

It was the longest single speech I had ever heard from Anne… no, Kira.

Meanwhile, Daphne had rushed off to find Marianna. “Please, may I have a little of your potion? And don’t worry, I knows to be careful.”

It puzzled Marianna how she knew about it, but promised she would include a vial when she sent over Daphne’s clothes. “But really, do be careful, little one,” she added. “It is very potent. Just a tiny dab on the lips is sufficient.”


As the Siren and the Peregrina parted company, Daphne awaited a dressing down from the newly christened Kira for the danger she had put herself in, but the girl had her own plans. When she heard her mistress approaching, she applied the smallest dab of the potion to her lips. When the woman had closed the door to their little quarters, Daphne took hold of her shoulders. 

“Kiss me first,” she said. “Then scold me.”

Anne glared at her – or at least tried to. It didn’t work. “Fuck, you crazy girl. Come here.”

Daphne could already feel the effects of the potion. Her pussy ached powerfully. She pulled her lover tight, their lips joining as Daphne’s tongue delivered the potion to Anne. The kiss grew to a bruising intensity. Then they were ripping at each other’s clothes, tumbling onto the cot. For the briefest moment, Anne stared down at the ebony girl she straddled, her pussy inches from Daphne’s lips. “Are you weaving your black magic, or is it what you do to me? I never felt… Oh God, let’s fuck.”

Daphne laughed as she gripped Anne’s thighs and drew them down. Her mouth fastened to Anne’s glistening pussy. She shook her head as her tongue sliced through the fleshy crease. Anne reached curling her fingers into Daphne’s cunt. Thus they jiggled, tongued and fucked for what seemed an eternity, but was in reality no more than a few minutes. Anne was only vaguely aware of what was happening to her as she foundered in a sea of love and lust.

There had been no conscious movement, yet somehow Daphne was now on top of Anne and their bodies had swung about. Each had her mouth tight to the other’s cunt. Daphne’s clit seemed to have become the centre of her being, yet she gloried in making love to the clit before her eyes.

A thought pushed its way into her mind. “This is the love I have waited for. We are truly one.”

And they reversed positions yet again. Daphne, now on the bottom, raised her hips, her body taut, legs trembling. She’s coming, Anne thought, as she felt her own surge. Daphne was still sucking on her clit even as she came herself. The sucking ceased at last, but their pussies pulsed against each other’s mouths as they rode their mutual climax to its conclusion. Then they lay side by side, face to face, almost touching, gazing into one another’s eyes. Anne trailed her fingers softly over her lover’s body. Eventually, she spoke. 

“You feel it, don’t you? You and I – a belonging.”

For a time, they lay quiet. Then Daphne asked, “What do we do now? We go far from this life, somewhere safe? You want that?”

“I do, but where, I got no idea. Maybe Ireland, but it might be too cold for you. And they talk too much, they’re so damned pious. There must be somewhere. Let’s think on’t for now, my love.”


There were any number of large forts, both in Castle Harbour and in the approaches. It was an anxious time as we sailed slowly into the bay, a long tongue of water with several islands scattered about and even more forts. We headed towards where I believed the naval base was. All remained calm.

“A cutter has left the wharf, heading for us, Captain,” Halcombe called down.

We were making barely two knots as I watched the cutter approach. As they drew close, a senior officer studied and then hailed us. “You’re not the ship we expected, but you fly the signal. Captain Dawlish, is it?”

Once I had confirmed that was my name, he directed us to moor at the wharf, a manoeuvre I had never attempted. I’d only ever anchored the ship, but with some expert assistance from Halcombe, I soon had the Peregrina tied safely. Now we would see if the admiral had kept his word.

It appeared he had indeed. Otherwise, we would have been greeted by a squad of marines.

The officer came aboard. His hand fluttered, almost saluting, but he checked himself and gave a small bow. “Would the Captain kindly accompany me? The admiral is expecting you.”

It was barely a two-minute walk before we entered a large building of several stories. A day of firsts – I had never encountered such a grand structure. The officer, who had not spoken since we set foot on land, knocked on a massive oak door, then waited.

I recognised the admiral’s voice. “Come.” 

He strode towards me as we entered. “Captain Dawlish, such a pleasure to meet again,” he said, taking both my hands in his. And what is it I see you fetching into my harbour? Another Spanish frigate, and a mighty one at that.”

“A gift for the king,” I said. “The Peregrina is a fine thirty-six-gun ship, and not very old. She sails beautifully. There’s only one small problem. Her crew are still aboard – under guard, of course.”

“As I recall, this makes three Spanish frigates you have taken in less than a year. Quite a remarkable achievement, Captain. Would the King’s Navy had a dozen such as you.” I was surprised to hear an English admiral say such things, but he laughed it off. “Will you take coffee with me, Captain, or would you prefer something else?”

“Coffee would suit just fine, Sir, but I am anxious to know whether you have news for me.”

The admiral beamed. I almost thought he was about to do a jig. From his desk, he produced a letter. “Here, this is for you.” I took the proffered document, which bore the admiral’s seal.

I was half-expecting what I saw, yet it still seemed fantastical. A Royal proclamation with my name on it!

I read through the document a second time:

Commander In Chief of His Majesty’s Forces in Bermuda.

By Order of Admiral Sir David Fleming,

To all whom these presents may concern.

Whereas His most Sacred Majesty George, by the Grace of God, does issue by way of Royal Proclamation.

Whereas We did think fit, by and with the Advice of Our Privy-Council, to Issue Our Royal Proclamation, bearing Date the 20th Day of January, One thousand seven hundred and twenty one, therein taking Notice that the herein named Person, one Captain Bren Dawlish, together with all persons employed by said person, shall from this day be free of all charges previously brought against him. Said charges are hereby declared to have been unlawfully established.

All stated persons deemed to be in the employ of said Captain are to receive the issue of a document declaring them lawful persons.

And, further, in reward for exceptional service to His Royal Majesty, that they may not be taken up by the press gang on any future date.

Given under my hand this 16th Day of February, One thousand seventeen and twenty-one.

Admiral Sir David Fleming.

“Charges brought against him?” I said. “His Majesty seems to be under a misapprehension.”

“And I would recommend we not disabuse him of it,” the admiral replied. 

“No matter, I guess. I owe you my thanks, Sir. It is more than I expected. My crews will be overjoyed, especially with the last part.”

“His Majesty has also requested that you and Captain Jensen attend upon him at Kensington Palace,” the admiral said. “Of course, the invitation would extend to Miss Marianna. This is an almost unprecedented honour, Captain. It bodes well for a solution to the safe banking of your funds. Should you be in agreement, I can arrange that your vessels travel to Portsmouth or London in escort with one of my ships.

“Upon your return, I shall find you a task here in the Caribbean, should you be so inclined. You would thus be employed by the King, directed by myself, though not attached formally to the Navy.”

I could only wonder at His Majesty’s expression when he laid eyes on his illustrious privateer.


The men from both ships had gathered on the deck of the Siren. They knew I had something significant to tell them. Little did they know quite how significant.

I held up the letter. “I have here a signed and sealed legal document from the admiral on behalf of the King.” There was complete silence as they waited. In a loud voice, so that all could hear, I read the letter to them.

They still sat quietly, stunned at what they had heard. Then Davy shouted at them, “You all gone dumb?” Now, they erupted, shouting, cheering, capering about.

“There’s more,” I said when the commotion had passed. “I, Jensen and Marianna are invited to attend the King at his palace. We shall dock in Portsmouth or London, where we have been offered the Naval dockyard services to carry out any works deemed necessary to Siren and Majestic. I shall have to pay, of course. Then we and our two ships have been offered employment here in the Caribbean, in the service of His Majesty, should we so choose.”

Taylor stepped out. He was attempting to mimic my way of walking. Had he gone mad, I wondered?

He stopped, then bowed low, sweeping off his hat. “Yer Majestic Royalness, it is I, yer pirate Cap’ain at yer command. Who would yer be ’avin’ us plunder? Them Spanish or them monsurs?”

He paused to see if his pantomime had been well received, then addressed the men. “So, me hearties, we be free an’ rich men, but think on, what would us be doin’ if’en we weren’t with the Cap’ain? I hopes she is acceptin’ that offer … when we knows what it’s about.” 

It was an extraordinary speech coming from Taylor, who seldom had much to say.

There ensued many loud conversations as each seaman attempted to express a view. I again called for quiet. “Thank you, Taylor, both for your drollery and your support. May I suggest, there is plenty of time for all to have a think. There is no need to be trying to decide anything right away. Which includes me.”


We – that is, Marianna and myself, along with my officers – were invited to a dinner at the Naval Officers Club. I expressed my concern at our lack of appropriate attire and, more importantly, our lack of etiquette. Only Marianna was skilled in that area. The admiral’s staff officer said it was of no consequence, they fully understood, and they so wanted to hear the stories of our conquests that such formalities paled to insignificance.

It transpired that Jensen, assisted from time to time by Marianna, was a superb orator. His memory for detail was quite astonishing. The evening was a resounding success.

The admiral, in a long-winded speech, touched on the matter of our attire. It would not do to meet the King dressed as we were – excepting Marianna, of course. I rather thought the admiral had taken a shine to my sweetheart. He had in mind a uniform for me – clever man! – and he would send his tailor to see us.

After dinner, we circulated from one group to another.

Lady Sarah Fleming, the admiral’s wife, pulled me aside. “May I have a quiet word, Captain, or may I call you Bren? I do hate having to be so formal.”

We chatted for quite some time, flitting from one subject to another. It was obvious how much younger she was than her husband – at least twenty years. She had two charming daughters, on the cusp of womanhood, she told me. They apparently found life on the islands somewhat dull, though our arrival had relieved the tedium somewhat, and they had asked her to enquire whether they might be invited to visit our ships. They still liked to think of us as pirates, regardless of what their father said. Her concern was, would they be safe among such men?

She hadn’t thought I might take offence at such a question, though in truth, her concerns were not misplaced. I assured her that I would be delighted to receive her daughters – and yes, my men would comport themselves with decorum. 


The carriage came to a stop in front of the gangway. I had been forewarned of the arrival of these young women. What I had not been prepared for was their astonishing beauty. One, I judged, was perhaps thirteen years of age, the other a year or two older. Their names were Jane and Samantha, respectively.

Their enthusiasm was quite genuine. They wanted to see and be shown everything. They were most taken with Daphne, astonished that a beautiful black girl roughly the same age as they should be among my crew. I also noticed that Samantha seemed to quickly twig to the relation between Daphne and Kira. It didn’t appear to disconcert her at all. In fact, a pretty blush came to her cheeks as she regarded them. Minutes later, she whispered to Jane, who couldn’t hide her curiosity, when she, likewise, turned to study the pair. 

Kira was none too appreciative of being the subject of the girls’ perusal and whatever thoughts they entertained. She waited for the first opportunity to excuse herself and Daphne, leaving the girls with us in our cabin.

I decided I might play their game.”So, Samantha, you were not shocked at what you perceived? Nor I think, were you, Jane. Would I be correct?”

Samantha laughed, quite brazenly. “Why ever would I be shocked? Kira may do with her black slut as she pleases.” 

“Daphne is a free woman,” I said, somewhat offended. “Not a slut, as you put it.”

“She’s a tasty-looking bit, regardless,” Samantha said. “And, if I may presume, the Captain and Miss Marianna also live as man and wife? Do pardon me for being forward, but I believe I have judged you correctly, have I not?”

Astonished was hardly the right word for what I was feeling. The girl evidently approved of what she had rightly observed – but to ask such bold questions!

“Captain, you should not look so taken aback. Tell them, Jane.” 

The younger sister had been looking sly whilst Samantha had been speaking. She told us nothing, but rather stood, gave a little curtsy, and then asked a question. “Whom should I kiss? My sister, the captain, or Marianna? Or perhaps all of you?”

For once, Marianna and I were at a loss for words. Samantha, who was still seated, however, pulled Jane between her spread legs and into her embrace. Their lips came together in a fervent kiss, and their hands began to roam.

Samantha, though half hidden behind her sister, must have seen the arousal she and Jane were causing. She lifted a hand and beckoned. I hesitated, not wishing to betray a trust.

Samantha broke from their kiss. “No need to fear, Captain. Mother is aware of our … pastimes. Life on these islands can be lonely, and we have learned to take comfort from each other. Now, will you both join with us? Jane and I, we came to have a lady pirate have her way with us, did we not, sister?”

Marianna clapped her hands. “Whoever would have thought? Will you lock the door, Bren? I think it’s an unexpected time for some fun!”

Samantha was already easing the dress from Jane’s shoulders. I watched as it fell to her feet to reveal the young beauty in all her naked glory. I admired the pert little arse, until Samantha spun her around, bringing the budding breasts and stiffening nipples into view. Further down, a sprinkling of golden hair surmounted a tight slit. The girl smiled, clearly proud to have enticed my wandering eyes. She reached behind and pulled Samantha to her feet. Turning to her, she proceeded to unfasten the back of the older girl’s dress, which, in a twinkling, dropped to the deck. Jane then gave her a push, and she was in my arms. Jane herself crossed to Marianna, raising her face to be kissed. Marianna took hold of her arse cheeks and pulled her close.

Sweet holy fuck, Samantha was a sterling kisser! Her hands freely explored my breasts, pinching the nipples through my shirt. Any reservations I might have held evaporated. I pressed my hand to her pussy, curling my fingers, separating the lips. The girl must have been anticipating this since her arrival, for she was already wet with need. Her tongue engaged with mine as her hips began to rock on my fingers like a jolly boat. 

Through my rising passion, I saw Marianna with a finger or two in Jane’s cunt, while another finger was already penetrating her arse. They were no longer kissing. Rather, Jane had her head tilted back and was calling on her randy pirate to fuck her hard and fast.

Samantha had seen me watching. “A lustful little bitch, don’t you think? But, my handsome Captain, so am I! Do you think you might also remove your clothes? It would be so much more convenient.”

I nodded, and in a rush, she stripped me naked. Her hand went to her mouth when she beheld me. “I knew it – so utterly handsome. And those scars!” She ran her fingers tenderly across the most prominent of them, a pale line that divided my breast from my shoulder. A distant, vacant look came into her eyes. “Such strength,” she said. “Such … heroism. What if some vile man abducted me? Would you save me from him? Hack him to pieces?” 

So, she wished to be possessed by a pirate. I would play the role to the hilt. I lifted her hand from my breast and kissed the palm.

“My lady,” I said, “I would quarter the brute and feed him to the dogs.”


She swooned in my arms. I pulled her around, and we fell to the deck. Her delightful, pouting pussy lips descended to my waiting mouth. We pushed our tongues into each other, first tasting, then licking and sucking. I suspected she knew quite well what to do, but for the moment, she was having fun mirroring my actions. 

I found her clit and teased it. She did the same to me. Then I pressed a finger to her tight little rose and felt it twitch. Again, she mirrored the act, but her smaller finger, pressing like mine, eased gradually inside.

She writhed her hips, her pussy squirming on my mouth as my tongue rapidly flicked her clit. My finger at her rear pressed harder. She gave a push, and I felt her inner heat.

My eyes were close enough to see her arsehole stretching as I added another finger. As she reciprocated, I briefly wondered whether she fucked her little sister’s arse the same way. No, I decided, it was more likely her mother’s.

Her cunt leaked juice across my face as she writhed. I found it hard to keep my tongue in contact with her clit. It likely didn’t matter. She was fucking my face, my nose often rubbing her clit, as she equally urgently fucked her arse on my fingers. As passion-mad as she was, she kept diligently fucking me, fingers pumping my cunt, lips drawing hard at my clit. Her jerking grew erratic. Still, she fucked me, though I knew she was coming. 

Her orgasm was not a single brief eruption. It was more an incessant series, like a ship’s bow pounding wave after wave. I had not known the like before.

At last, she felt my body stiffen. The fingers in my cunt worked even faster, though a moment before, I would have thought it impossible. Her tongue teased me hard. Then, a glorious climax.

Her body collapsed on mine as we gasped. I wallowed in the after-glow of so satisfying an encounter. Such a young girl, but so adept in the ways of love!

She turned about to meet my eyes. “I got my wish. The strong Captain fucked me. I so hope I haven’t shocked you, but somehow, I rather doubt it. I have heard a story that you and Marianna first met quite some years ago. My guess is you both fucked when you were as young as us. I can tell from your smile that I’m right.”

We heard a small squeal. It was Jane, now lying on top of Marianna just as Samantha had lain on top of me. I could tell by Marianna’s face that she had already come. The young girl though had not, but she was on the verge. 

Jane’s lips curled into an ecstatic grimace as she strived for her peak. It was the first time I had watched my lover bringing someone else to a climax. The girl, it had transpired, was twelve years of age, just as we had been, although, thinking back, I found it difficult to believe we had been as forward as this little one.

Her orgasm, when it came, was quite unlike her sister’s. Jane built to one explosive release, bucking furiously right up until the end. Then she froze, as the tremors rattled her body. When it was done, she simply went limp, 

“I and, I’m sure, Marianna are glad you came to visit us,” I said. “You may tell your mother how delighted we have been with your company. Though not the details, perhaps.”

“You’re quite wrong, Captain.” Samantha said. She will interrogate us on every particular. She says your ships may be here for a while, and she suggests we might take a picnic somewhere, all of us! Would you like that? Perhaps you might prevail upon Kira and Daphne to come, too?”


I impressed on the men the need for caution. 

“Try and stay out of fights with the Navy,” I told them. “We don’t want the admiral changing his mind and ordering us to leave. The Navy has what they call a shore patrol, that will whisk any troublemakers away. I think we might try and organise in the same way. Two will hold each watch when we have people ashore. They are not to drink. Their job is to prevent our men from causing trouble.”

I waited for the expected groans to die. “I am hoping we will soon receive our orders to depart for England. We have to go and fetch our treasure. The admiral will provide a frigate to accompany us … at our expense, naturally.”

On to Chapter Seven!


13 Comments on Captain Bren and the Royal Siren, Chapter 6

  1. Captain Midnight says:

    Terrific! Love it!

    One problem!

    The notice from the King is dated 1021 rather than 1721.

    Can’t resist.

    Such a lovely story! Bless you both!

    • JetBoy says:

      Fixed. Good catch!

    • kinkychic says:

      Oops, well spotted. And, thank you JB for fixing it.

      Before publication began of this second series, I seem to remember one of us saying that we thought it was better than the first. I know that I’m loving reading it. I think we were right. It is better.

      Thank you for still being with us Captain Midnight.

  2. kacey says:

    Great chapter, ladies! The battle, Anne and Daphne, and the sisters. And, I must say, a very interesting idea on the life of the She-Wolf of the Caribbean 😊 “Kira Delaney” a marvelous Irish name, if ever i heard one!!
    Blessin’s A’guardin’ ya, Colleens!!

    • kinkychic says:

      Thank you kacey. Yes, we did search out a real Irish name that had a meaning to it in the Irish language.

      • kacey says:

        Apart from having a mild fascination with our said Irish Pyrate-Queen, the name you chose for her is the female derivative of my real name 😊 so thank you again for that 💖
        Am in anticipation of the next chapter.

  3. Erocritique says:

    Quite an action packed chapter. The balance between the naval action and the sexual action was exceptionally well done. The introduction of the Fleming girls – Sarah, Samantha, and Jane – into the lesbian action promises to be the highlight of the next chapter. I can’t wait to enjoy the picnic with all the ladies. And I can only imagine what will happen if Jane and Samantha get a hold of some of Yaima’s potion. (I suspect I won’t have to imagine.) ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

    • kinkychic says:

      Another lovely comment. Thank you, as ever.

      NB. A small observation on the previous chapter five. I don’t believe we ever had fifty-one straight Excellents before.

    • kinkys_sis says:

      Preconceptions based on our hints. They seldom work out as you might expect. That’s part of the fun of writing a serial.

      Watch this space as they say.

      • Erocritique says:

        Well now I’m equal parts cautiously disappointed and intrigued. 🤔 I will definitely be watching this space. 👁

  4. kinkys_sis says:

    I’m so delighted at the response we’ve got this time – thank you all.

    Worth saying again, thank you JJ.

    I have been writing loads over the last couple of weeks. Then suddenly I’ve hit a blank. It happens from time to time, I’ve never figured out why. I never let it worry me because I know something will trigger me off again.

    JetBoy, most likely will say – thank God… we do send him too much to consider.

  5. Kim & Sue says:

    Hi, we’re a little late to comment, but real life often slows our reading time. Just to echo what others have already said. Very good chapter, with the conclusion of the sea battle leaving us once again impressed with Captain Bren’s skills as a sea captain.

    The pardon and riches for her loyal crew. And her new passengers didn’t waste anytime getting to what we all love. A great chapter yet again.

    Thanks, sisters and JJ

    • kinkychic says:

      Love your comment as always.

      It makes us laugh when we consider that we give our characters sailing expertise and hopefully portray it in a believable way… when in fact, neither of us knows the first thing about sailing. It’s all down to research and what we have learned from some of the books we read.

      We can’t practice sailing but the other (?) we can.

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